Once Upon an Us
by Kyakume
Summary: It's been five years since Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov married his husband, mate and coach all in one: figure skating legend, Viktor Nikiforov. The two have everything they could ask for...mostly. Except children. Repetitive Miscarriages aren't easy for an Omega or ageing Alpha.. Summary cont'd inside. (Omegaverse, A/B/O, yaoi)
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY: ****It's been five years since Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov married his husband, mate and coach all in one: figure skating legend, Viktor Nikiforov. The two have everything they could ask for: a stable marriage, reputation, and money. But the one thing they do not have after years of trying, is a CHILD, while their friends are either pregnant or working on their second children. After two miscarriages, the loss beginning to take it's toll on Yuuri and Viktor both. Can the two overcome this hurdle? Or will it rip them apart? **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to Yuri! On Ice, or it's characters!**

_**A/N:**__** Hey ya'llllll, it's nice to be back! I've been playing around with the idea of a Viktuuri fic the moment I reached the half-way point of the Yurabek one a couple years ago. Though this will take place in the same universe I created following some years after the end of 'Your Forever', you do not have to go back and read that fanfic just to read this one (though I encourage you to read it anyway, and drop a review :D).**_

_**Read and Review!**_

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Chapter 1

"It's all right, Yuuri. Every Omega is different, but this story is still very common amongst the males I'm afraid..."

I swear I'm not intentionally ignoring the doctor, but his words simply flow into one ear and out the other without me retaining much of what is said. I can't focus on him. I can't focus at all. He doesn't understand. He's a beta; he's never lost a baby before...and I've already lost two. This makes it our third.

_Third._

The reminder causes me to clench the material of my thin hospital gown.

Viktor isn't here; both a blessing and a curse. I miss him of course, but _oh God_, the prospect of telling him I've failed _again_ is tearing me apart. My anxiety sky rockets, I can't breathe, and I think I'm going to-

"Oy, piggy."

The familiar voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts of negativity, reminding me that Yurio took the time away from his own child and husband to be here with me. When I blink back to the present, the doctor is gone and I realize that somehow I'd missed the moment Yurio put his hand on top of mine. I look down at it, and then back up at him quizzically. I know he hates physical touch besides that of his daughter Vasilisa, and husband Otabek. That he's touching me now speaks volumes.

"I told him to leave," he says in regard to the vanished doctor. Closer inspection of his face reveals his deep worry for me. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

I want to lie and say that I feel fine...but I just can't do it. So I nod in truth instead. "A little," I say. "It'll pass. It always does."

And I just lose it right there, removing my glasses to sob into my hands. Yuri sighs and climbs awkwardly onto the small hospital bed to pull me into an awkward sort of embrace. Yesterday, there'd been a slight belly between us. My belly.

Not anymore.

Why must this always happen? What if I'm barren? How am I supposed to face the world like this?

"Shit, Yuuri, don't start now," I hear him warn me. "Breathe evenly."

A panic attack sits on the corners of my sanity, waiting to consume me whole and he knows it. He knows it better than anyone else, of course. And why wouldn't he? He struggles like I do, enough to need daily medication. So I follow his orders and force myself to inhale and exhale deeply between sobs, until the tears have stopped and my heart no longer feels like beating itself out of my chest.

It takes several moments for me to pull myself together, and Yuri gives me the dignity of wiping my face and waiting for some of the splotchiness of my cheeks to dissipate before allowing the doctor to return. The man in the white coat looks sympathetic when he comes back in, but he discharges me after the usual spiel about the after effects of a DC, the spotting I may have, etcetera. Nothing I don't already know. Unfortunately, I've been here before.

Although I want nothing more than to go home and to be left alone, Yurio simply calls Otabek to inform him he'll be sleeping over my house. In more hushed tones of Russian, I know he is explaining the miscarriage before he ends the call and stares straight ahead out the windshield. It's his new car, gifted to him by Otabek on their wedding anniversary last year. Expensive, sleek but simple. And warm now that the heat is on.

I've been looking at his stoic face for a few moments before I finally manage out a, "You don't have to do this-"

"You are my responsibility until Viktor gets back and you break the news to him," he cuts off.

He didn't even give me room to argue. Immediately my mouth closes audibly. "He's not due back for a few more days," I mumble lamely in excuse. Viktor is abroad shooting a commercial that's due to wrap up soon. In truth, I was planning on not telling Viktor until then, giving me time to gain the courage to say it to my husband's face.

But Yuri sees through it and makes a rude sound with his throat. "He deserves to know. We are calling him tonight, and you will tell him." More orders. I shouldn't be surprised. We may both be omegas, but Yuri comes from a long line of Alphas. Up until he presented, his family assumed he'd be an Alpha too. He'd been groomed to be one for much of his developmental years. Unlike me, who wasn't groomed in either direction since my family had more betas.

Yuri turns to look at me, a bit softer now. "It was his baby, too. I'll be there with you when you break the news."

* * *

It is very late by the time we pull into the driveway of the home I now share with Viktor. It's a slow process getting up from my seat on the passenger side to the door, and again from the main floor to the bedrooms upstairs. Of course it's not Yuri's first time here, and he easily takes over the guest bedroom down the hall. He doesn't disturb me for the duration of my very long bath, and the brief privacy allows me to cry out the remainder of my frustrations in the soapy water. As warned, I find that I am still spotty and must wear a liner to protect my underwear. Yet another reminder of my failure to create life. Pathetic.

Fully cleansed of any evidence of tonight's horror, Yuri and I make camp in the large living room before the curved, obnoxiously large television to indulge in some anime. It does a good job of distracting us for a time, but eventually Yuri pauses the show to look at me.

I already know what he is going to say, and I bite my lips when he reaches over for my forgotten iPhone on the coffee table. Upon pressing the home button, the private picture of myself blushing while a smiling Viktor kisses my nose appears. Yuri gives a tense look at the photo before handing the cell back to me.

"You need to call him," he says gruffly. It's in Russian, but I've been in this country for a few years now and can catch enough of what is said based on context clues if the pace of speech is slow enough.

I bite my lip and take the phone, unlocking it and going to my recent calls. My thumb hovers over Viktor's name and the longer I stare at it, the harder it is for me to break the news. I count to ten in my head, and finally dial the number.

I so wish it would go to voicemail, but of course the universe answers none of my whims and he picks up on the third ring. _"Allo?"_ comes his standard greeting. It sounds like he's still asleep, and I feel terrible for waking him to this kind of news.

"Vit...Vitya..." I stammer out. My throat is tight. I can't breathe. I can't do this. Try as I might, I can't get anything else out.

"Yuuri, love?" Viktor is wide awake now, my tone his alarm clock. I can hear shuffling through the phone, followed by a click; likely his lamp switching on. "What is wrong?" There is a mild pause, and then, "Is it the baby?"

That he is able to guess so correctly, so quickly, hurts. As if he's used to this. And that cuts worse than the loss of life. I am utterly silent, and I hear Viktor sigh. "I will be there by tomorrow."

I simply pass the phone to Yuri in defeat, who has a grim look on his face. He turns away somewhat to continue speaking to Viktor, though now it is fully in Russian and going far too quickly for me to keep up. I don't want to keep up, anyway. I simply lay down and curl into a ball, and in no time I am fast asleep.

That night, I dream of a field of red coffins with distant lullabies playing in the background.

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_**Read and review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Ok so! I'm not sure what the posting schedule will be for this fic. Nor do I know how long it will be, yet. I'm hoping for it to be weekly updates, but given my schedule it could be Fridays, Saturdays or Sundays. Weekends, basically. I tend to write chapters out of order the moment a scene comes to me, and then go back and connect with filler chapters later. I know, I know, weird method but it's what keeps me from getting discouraged when I reach a brain fart._**

_**Anywho, read and review!**_

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Chapter 2

Viktor wasn't bluffing. I don't know if he called off the shoot or if he rushed it, but whatever magic he worked, he was able to arrive home by late afternoon the following day. I am in our bedroom when he arrives. I'm still in pajamas, still in the bed, curled up among the down sheets and guilt. Yuri and Viktor speak in hushed tones, making it incredibly hard to hear whatever is being said in the living room. It doesn't help that their Russian seems to flying at a thousand miles per hour. I just cannot keep up, though I hear my name said enough times to know I am the topic of discussion. With a sigh I roll over and pull the sheets over my head, closing my eyes and tuning them out.

I'm not sure when I dozed off, but when I awoke again the sun was setting. Had I literally slept the entire day?

Whereas earlier I could hear the muttering of two different voices in conversation beyond the door of our bedroom, now it's just silence. Silently, I exit the bedroom and head down the short flight of stairs to find Viktor is sitting alone in the kitchen, a cup of forgotten tea in front of him. He's staring blankly into the mug, lips turned downward and the center of his platinum brows wrinkled in that way it tended to when lost in thought. By the lack of rising steam, I can only assume the tea had gone cold a long time ago.

"D-did you...want me to... heat that up for you..?" I ask, softly trying to get his attention.

It works. He snaps to almost immediately, as though the sound of my voice physically yanked him from the innermost parts of his own mind. A tired smile graced his features to replace the frown there a moment ago. When was the last time he'd properly slept?

"I'm sorry I didn't come upstairs sooner, you were sleeping so soundly that I did not want to wake you," he replies just as softly, as though he's afraid I may break should he up the volume. Rising from his seat, he gives a contemplative look to the tea cup before picking it up and dumping its contents into the sink. His back is to me while he washes. That's his thing, being the neat freak between us. As soon as he uses something he has to wash it immediately, even though we have a dishwasher.

"Yuratchka returned home already," he explains. "His daughter fell ill while at daycare and he needed to tend to her so Otabek could attend practice."

Ah, so that explained the missing blonde. I simply nod and gingerly move toward the living area. The floor is an open plan, making it easy for us to see and hear each other as I lower gingerly onto the couch.

I sigh. "Hey, Viktor, you know you didn't need to drop everything just for me, right? I could have survived another few days and waited patiently..."

"You might have been able to survive a few more days, but it probably would have driven me mad first."

The sincere confession makes my cheeks warm and I duck my head in embarrassment...and guilt. I don't deserve this kind of love. "How much did Yuri tell you?"

The sound of the faucet turns off. "Everything."

I slump immediately. "I'm so sorry..."

Viktor dries his hands off on the kitchen towel before coming into the livingroom. He sits in the space beside me on the couch and tugs me against him. "Hey, hey," he says, frowning down at me, "You have nothing to apologize for. You couldn't have known this would happen."

I don't buy it and shake my head, but before I can damn myself even more he interrupts with simple hard facts.

"Yuuri. It was a placental abruption. This happened last time, and they warned us you would always be at risk for abruptions as a result. We hoped for the best while knowing the risks, but it was a risk we were willing to take."

And of course it all makes sense. It's science. It's proven. I relax just a smidge and bury my face into his neck, inhaling deeply. It's so calming, his scent. He's probably blasting calming pheromones on purpose."I'm sorry I made you come back from your project so early," I mutter against his skin.

I only feel him shake his head. "Nonsense, they had enough takes to allow my leaving. Besides, it was an emergency. How are you feeling, by the way?"

I shrug. "A little sore. It will pass."

Viktor sighs and rubs my hand, thumbing the ring on my finger. He's quiet for a while and I know that when he gets this way he's usually thinking long and hard about something. I know better than to interrupt him when he gets this way. In the beginning I used to demand he tell me what's on his mind, but I've learned it's better to give him a moment to sort his thoughts before he airs them on his own.

He clears his throat as expected, and I make sure I'm fully alert to pay attention. "Yuuri...perhaps we will not be so lucky to have children. Perhaps we should look into surrogacy, or adoption-"

"No!" I shove away from him and look at his surprised face from my reaction. "No," I say again, but my voice cracks, and I see the precise moment when regret settles into Viktor's face. He reaches out but I bat his hand away, shaking my head.

"Yuuri, it is norm-"

"I want to try again. Let's try again," I interrupt once more. Viktor looks pained at my request, which completely throws me off. Why does he look so pained? Is what I ask for so farfetched?

In the same vein of thought I answer my own question.

Oh. _Oh._

"You...think I'm asking for the impossible," I say. And I pull away from him as though I'd been burned. The act makes him cringe but I don't care. "You would rather make a child with someone else who isn't me!"

Viktor narrows his brows. "That is not what I said."

"That's _exactly_ what it sounds like!"

"Yuuri, _enough_!"

That is a direct order, and I immediately bow my head at the bark. So rarely does he raise his voice that every time he does, it immediately brings me to heel. My hands are twisting into the sheets still covering me, knuckles white from the pressure. It's quiet now, the only sound between us being Viktor's heavy breathing. He's upset. Very, very upset.

With me.

I slump again and cover my face. "I'm sorry. I just...can we please try one more time?"

He doesn't answer for a long time, and I don't have to look up to know he's giving me a long, regarding look. Viktor is aging. He wants a family of his own. He told me that long before we were ever married. It's hard to remember sometimes that there is an age-difference between us, so his mental space is so very different from mine.

"Vitya, _please_."

His sigh makes me think he's going to reject my request, and the long silence following causes me to sag under the weight of perceived defeat. He's my Alpha. It's not as if I could really have a choice if he was adamant about getting a child through other means.

"It pains me so much more than you realize," he begins to explain. "Knowing you physically ache. Knowing you mentally and emotionally ache everytime we lose a child... It hurts you, but it hurts me, too, to watch on so hopelessly."

When he explains it like that, I find myself feeling almost selfish for asking him to endure the possibility one more time. But I lift my eyes up to his face, mine pleading with his tentative ones. When he pulls me close to him again I shove my nose into his neck as he grips me protectively.

"When you've healed," he says, "we can try again. If anything happens we must just accept it is not meant to be. No more arguing. Okay?"

"Okay," I whisper. One shot. I've got one shot to prove to everyone that I can do this. And God help me if I fail.

I don't think I could live with myself if I did.

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_**A/N:**** WOW. Okay, that was intense. I was blasting intense music though soooo...that probably explains it xD**_

_**Please be sure to leave a review for me! Some of you may feel more comfortable leaving me a private message instead, and that's ok. I respond to each and every one of your lovely messages!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__** Hello reader! I finished this chapter pretty early on, so I've decided to post it a day early. Not much note to put here except that I did insert some Romanized Russian into this chapter which are likely to be used pretty often for the rest of the story. SO, to make this easier on all of us I've put the translations here in the Author's Note. **_

_**"Lyubov Moya" = My Love**_

_**"Zolotse" = My Gold (seeing as how Viktor is known for racking up gold medals, and Yuuri thinks of Viktor as his personal trophy. Cheesy, I know xD)**_

_**"Kotyonok" = Little Kitten**_

_**"Da" = Yes**_

_**"Niet/Nye" = No**_

_**"Spaseeba" = Thank you**_

_**"Da nyet, navernoe" = Their version of 'Yes, no, maybe-so'**_

_**Any other words I use will be added to this key later on for ease. Thank you for reading!**_

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Chapter 3

Viktor chooses to stay home with me for the first week despite my urging him to return to the ice. Yakov being as old as he is needed his help around the rink more and more, after all. We all knew the old man was tired after returning back to full-time hours while Viktor was on his commercial shoot abroad. Word had gotten out that Viktor was back in St. Petersburg, so I knew Viktor was purposely avoiding much of Yakov's phonecalls in effort to stay with me.

When he turns his phone facedown to ignore another early morning phone call from Yakov, I frown and nudge his shoulder. "I don't need a babysitter, Viktor," I say disapprovingly. "While I love all this attention and time together, I'll feel like crap to know I'm the reason you're staying off the ice. So, please. Go help the old man, he needs the rest."

I'm not exaggerating and we both know it. Yakov had a minor stroke last year due to all the stress of helping his students for competition, _especially_ Yurio. Viktor had been forced to step in as an interim coach while Yakov was away, and when Yakov was cleared to return to coaching everyone agreed it was best for Viktor stay on as an assistant and shoulder some of the load.

I can tell Viktor initially intended to argue the point with me, but he changed his mind mid-thought and sighed in resignation. "Very well _lyubov moya_, I will go since you put it that way. But please, try not to overwork yourself, yes?" he says, grabbing the phone and already hitting re-dial.

I nod and lean over to steal a swift kiss from him before he prepares to go get ready. "I'll try, _zolotse_."

When he does finally leave the house, I go about doing exactly what he said not to do and begin my usual routine of stretches and barre workout to get my blood pumping just a tad. When I finish, I clean up what minimal mess I made and then take a shower, followed by grabbing a quick breakfast. The rest of the day consists of food shopping for the house, clothes shopping for myself, and a bit of cardio all before Viktor gets home. By the time he does, I'm already changed into pajamas and sitting comfortably in the livingroom.

"You didn't overwork yourself, right?" he asks warningly.

I merely wink and say I did not.

* * *

Later that night when Viktor falls asleep on the plush couch in the middle of our movie, I tip-toe away to our bedroom to turn on the computer and make a FaceTime call to Phichit. I hadn't spoken to him in several weeks, texting him only to let him know I'd lost the baby-again-and that I'd be back on the ice sooner than we expected.

Though I have a game running on the Mac, as well as my Discord chat going a mile a minute, I still manage to multitask easily. Years of gaming provided the practice necessary, I suppose.

"Hey, Phichit," I begin, "do you remember seven years ago when I got Victor and I those rings?"

Despite the distance and the four hour time difference between us, Phichit is still the best friend I have in the skating world. Even more than Yurio. Though I suppose that's not entirely surprising given the years of friendship between us, starting from our youth training days in Detroit, Michigan. To this, aside from our partners, no one else is really allowed to call our phones at absurd times of the night.

Speaking of which, it's about ten o'clock when I glance at the clock on my desk, which means it's roughly two in the morning for Phichit in Bangkok. He seems wide awake for it being the wee hours of the morning, eyes shining with the reflection of his monitor. I can tell that, like me, he's also playing a game on one of his consoles.

Phichit nods at my question. "Yeah of course! I totally thought you'd gotten married in secret and didn't invite me! Rude!"

With a laugh I shake my head. "And embarrassed me by shouting it to the entire venue. Jeez, totally unnecessary!"

"Yeah, well!"

Phichit's laugh echoes in my headphones. "So...when Viktor said we were engaged and supposed to get married after I got the gold, everyone else seemed a little skeptical. Except you. Not even I thought I would get the gold. So why were you rooting for me?"

He pauses the game finally too look at me properly in his webcam. "Because unlike them, I know you," he starts. "You were always a big ball of jumpy nerves, Yuuri. For as long as I've known you, you never seemed to know how to just _relax_, man. Except for two times: when you were alone on the ice when you thought no one was watching...or when you were alone with Viktor and thought no one was watching. And even though you didn't know it then, I knew he'd marry you even if you _didn't _win gold. But you didn't know that yet, which I guess was his point. He wanted to give you a drive, a goal, because you didn't know yet how to do that for yourself."

Wow. For a while, I'm speechless, simply staring at Phichit staring at me. "I never told you, but I so desperately wanted Viktor to stay that when I thought I couldn't make it past prelims, I had possibly the biggest panic attack of my life. And he told me he would leave. I was so devastated..."

"I know."

I pause and frown then. "What? How did you know?"

Looking as though caught in headlights, Phichit hesitates to answer. But I press him to give me the honest truth and he finally caved.

"That night, Viktor talked to me when you were asleep," Phichit sighs. "He didn't want you to know. But he felt pretty bad about being the reason you broke down like that and wanted to know how to fix the mess."

I blink once, twice. "W..what..?"

Phichit shrugs. "He was scared, Yuuri. But you handled yourself pretty well I think." Phichit goes quiet, giving me a long look, before speaking again. "Yuuri...we never talked about your miscarriages...and I didn't pry. But, what happened?"

I freeze up and bite my lip, hand flying to my flattened tummy. Phichit is right, I never talked to him about it. Not really. I just sorta told him the baby was gone, both times, but that was it. And he'd been kind enough both times to not push the subject.

He sees my hesitation and immediately takes back his curiosity. "You know what, never mind. It's not my business. You don't have to if you're not ready."

"No, Phichit. It's okay. Just gimmie a sec..."

With a sigh, I take off my glasses and exit the game I'm playing. It's not that I need to recollect the memory of both instances. Closer to the opposite really. I'd never forgotten either time. I just needed to make sure I wouldn't have a panic attack, or break down from remembering.

"The first time..." I stop, choosing instead to focus on a spot on the bedroom floor. It's easier than looking at Phichit's face full of pity. "The first time, I'd made it to three months in," I begin. "By then, Viktor and I started setting up the nursery for...for our daughter."

"Oh...Yuuri..."

I take in a long breath, hold it, and let it go before continuing. I'd never had a reason to air all this before, outside of therapy. And that had been so long ago. "We were going to name her Natalia for a girl, Nathaniel for a boy. I'd already begun buying some baby clothes, nappies and—"

I stop when I realize I'm crying and hastily wipe the tears away. "Anyway. I remember that day I was spotting a bit. I'd kind of been spotty for weeks and the doctor said such things did happen, but that I should take it easy. That day I hadn't done anything labor intensive. Not really. By then I wasn't skating anymore but I was cleared for modified ballet, so I attended classes. Came home. Painted in the nursery. But I just kept spotting. And when the spotting turned into full on Red River I knew something was wrong."

I paused for a moment to allow Phichit the chance to say something, but he was quiet and a little white in the face for what he knew was the worst part of the first half of my tale. So I continued.

"I felt damp so I thought 'Oh, I've probably waited too long to pee again.' Because, well, I've admittedly done that a lot in that pregnancy, except I went to the toilet and...so much red...

"I sat there for maybe 5 minutes in a panic, because all I could think of was, 'how do I tell Viktor?' He'd been more excited than I was about being a father."

I don't talk about the part where I cried hopelessly in the bathroom, alone and on the verge of a panic attack. How Viktor found me hysterical about an hour later because of the 20 missed calls on my phone. What the public _did _know was that I had to be hospitalized for a few days due to complications of the lost child. My social media had been swamped for days with messages of support in the wake of the miscarriage.

Phichit finally speaks up in a whisper. "Yuuri...I'm so sorry. You don't have to keep going."

But I shake my head and continue anyway. I need to get it out. My therapist advised that the more I talked about it, the less it power it had over me. This is more for me than for Phichit, I guess. "The second time, we got further along, but only by a few weeks. I couldn't keep anything down, and I was always so sick. We were less surprised about that miscarriage, and in a way Viktor thought it was for the best, because I was so sick.

"This time, though... I blame myself. I fell on some black ice in the driveway. And I just knew it was over before I even hit the ground."

His face crumpled. "Come on, don't blame yourself, Yuuri. I won't allow it."

I'm shaking my head before he's done talking. "I knew better. You've seen our driveway, Phichit. It's long, and steep. I shouldn't have gone out in the snow, the trash could have waited another day. But because I chose to be stubborn, I've robbed Viktor the chance of fatherhood a second time."

"Dude, that is seriously not healthy," says Phichit. "You've got to stop talking like that. There's nothing anyone could have-"

I nearly jump out of my perch on the bed when I feel someone rip my headphones out. It's obviously Viktor but I wasn't expecting him to be awake. My hand flies to my chest as I steady my heartrate. "Jesus, Viktor! Don't scare me like that! Did you knock?"

"I did, you did not hear." Viktor doesn't look amused. Oh boy. "Yuuri, how could you blame yourself? Still?"

Oh..."Phichit, I'll text you later," I mumble, ending the call. How embarrassing. I draw my legs up onto the chair, crossing them Indian style and dropping my chin in my hands. "Okay, Viktor, how much did you hear through the door?"

Defensively, Viktor crosses his arms. "Not that I was eavesdropping or anything," he begins slowly, "but, I heard enough. More than enough."

My cheeks color, and with an embarrassed groan I change my seat from the rolling chair to the bed and flop backward against it like a limp ragdoll. I can practically guess what he's going to say, but I simply wave a hand to let him go on with it.

Viktor joins me on the bed, laying beside me but with far more elegance than I could ever muster. "Yuuri, I do not blame you for the loss of our children. I could never blame you for the loss of our children. You were just as excited at the prospect of parenthood as I was, and you did everything you could have done to prepare for it. You went as far as purchasing an unhealthy amount of parenting books just to be safe!"

I remain quiet. Honestly, I thought he would lecture me on my dark attitude in regard to the miscarriages. But...he isn't. And my chest constricts as a result. I roll over to look at him at almost the same time he shifts to face me. When he reached out a hand to caress my cheek, I naturally close my eyes and release a deep sigh. And like that, every single doubt I had about my imagined disappointment Viktor might have in me, disappears. Mostly. "I'm sorry," I whisper, truly meaning it. And not about the child loss, but about my attitude toward it. "I'll do better."

"I know," he whispers back, tucking some of my long hair behind an ear. "And we will try again, as promised. One more time."

My eyes open again, hope renewed. Our eyes lock for a moment of silence, and boldly I lean in to close the small distance between us for a kiss. When he doesn't pull away, I take the chance to deepen it, to slide my fingers into his silvery locks and pull him closer. Except...he ends the kiss.

Dramatically.

Blinking my eyes open in mild surprise and confusion, I lean back some to give him a good look. That was odd. He'd never denied my advances before. Have I miscalculated?

"Vitya, the doctor did clear me for intimacy again, you know. We _can_ have sex." _And try for a kid again immediately,_ I want to add. But I don't say it aloud. I know we're both thinking it anyway.

Viktor merely gives me a small smile, but for some reason, it feels forced. Though, it could be all in my head again. Wouldn't be the first time. But what if..?

"I know, _lyubov moya_. But there is no rush. We have time, no?"

Well, I guess he's not wrong. Even though I'm kind of aroused, it could be he's just tired from his first day back at the rink. He does, after all, have to split his time between his own choreographing, conditioning and rink work; and coaching the juniors in preparation for competition season.

I decide not to be selfish, keeping my arousal to myself and simply nodding. "Ok," I agree, lowering my head to his chest. "We can wait a bit longer."

After all, we've already gone a few weeks without any intimacy. A few more days won't hurt.

...Right?

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**_A/N: Read and review!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:**__** My longest chapter for this story (so far)! Over 3,000 words. I can't tell if that's too long, by it didn't seem right chopping this chapter into two different ones without it coming off as an awkward pause. Eh.**_

_**Enjoy the long read! I worked really hard on it!**_

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Chapter 4

It's hard returning to the rink for the first time nearly two months since the miscarriage. The doctor cleared me to resume sports training and, while I am physically well, it's the mental aspect that's slow in catching up. In the first stages of pregnancy, I took care to be mindful of any falls I took on the ice. Viktor especially. He hovered like an overprotective parent to make sure any attempt at a skill wouldn't end with particularly hard hits to the belly. Now, I have to turn that mindset _off._

There is also the whole public thing. I don't smell pregnant anymore, and certainly no longer look the part. I catch the moment when others do double takes at my missing belly. Or whisper amongst themselves when they believe I'm out of earshot. Sure, I can't really hear the barely-audible Russian anyway. But that doesn't mean I can't guess the subject of gossip.

As the days went by, I assumed I would become old news. Less stares, less whispers. Life continuing on as normal. Which, in a way, might almost feel more terrible than the miscarriage itself; in a fleeting moment, the child I lost becoming an afterthought and world continuing to spin without a beat.

Such a waste.

But no, that is not what happens. To my face, people give me words of consolation. But when they think I cannot hear, the Russian words for 'abortion' go uttered between groups of friends. It doesn't matter that they do not say it to my face, I've already seen the tabloids online, all various titles in various languages but with the same common theme. They all think I did this on purpose, that all these miscarriages aren't accidents at all, but abortions done on purpose just so I could skate a little longer. After all, pregnant omegas cannot compete in any sport. But I would never, _ever_ snuff out the creation Viktor and I made together. I wanted all my children to live past the first trimester. _I did_. That the world thinks otherwise...is somehow worse than if people forgot about my pregnancies altogether.

This, compounded with Viktor's now blatant avoidance of anything remotely sexual where I am concerned, gets to my head. My practices are filled with moments where I blank out in the middle of rehearsal, forgetting choreography in pieces or altogether. Or making mistakes on tricks that should be easy for me. Footwork is my strong suit, yet still my errors are plentiful. Viktor is getting frustrated with my frustration, and I am getting frustrated with him for reasons that have nothing to do with the ice. The result is he and I bickering for too much time, in front of too many people when we both vowed to never take our problems in light of the public eye. Yet here we are.

In the middle of practice, Viktor throws up his hands and storms out of the rink, pushing the double doors open with too much force and leaving me behind to fume by myself.

"You'll burn a hole in the ice if you keep staring at that spot."

It's Otabek's voice that pulls me from my dangerous thoughts and back into the here and now. I was so distracted that I somehow missed hearing him skate up beside me. He's fiddling with his phone to pause the music, simultaneously pulling the earphones out of his ears. I'm on the opposite side of the rail, skates on but guards on as well since I'd just come back from lunch.

With a grumble, I pause my stretching to give him my attention. "Good, it'll drown all the disappointments they all have of me."

"Yuuri..." Otabek puts his phone away and cringes at my choice of words. I immediately feel bad.

"Sorry," I say quickly, "I know you don't feel that way. How's your daughter? Yurio said she was sick but I haven't heard much else."

Otabek waves a hand. "Vasilisa is mostly better. She caught the flu. Nasty bug going around her school, but Yuri's kept a good handle on disinfecting the house to prevent us catching and further spreading her bug."

Explains why Yurio isn't here. Sick children can't go to daycare and someone has to care for a miserable, sneezing, coughing child.

He goes on to rant a bit about it, painting a picture in my mind of a short Yurio trying and failing to spray bleach and sanitizer in hard to reach areas with a step stool. And at first I chuckle a bit at the image...but then it fades away into something of a forlorn look. It takes a while, but Otabek notices my silence and goes quiet as well. "What is it? What did I say?"

I shake my head no. "Nothing. Not really," I start. I shrug a bit. "I just wonder what all that must be like, is all."

Otabek gives a tight smile, almost looking apologetic. "You'll experience all the sleepless nights soon enough, I'm sure. Enjoy not having a toddler climb into your bed in the middle of the night to interrupt alone time."

"Not that there's any alone time to interrupt," I grumble mostly to myself in frustration.

I didn't think Beka would hear it, but apparently he had and he frowns. "Is that why you and grandpa have been at each other's throats the last week and a half...?"

The tops of my ears feel warm and I duck my head in embarrassment. That's answer enough for him, based on the long sigh he gives.

"It's not really appropriate for me to be talking about this stuff with you as an Alpha that's not yours, you know," Beka starts, talking lower. "But Viktor _is_ getting older. Maybe his drive isn't what it used to be. Maybe spice things up in the bedroom..? Ah.." He rubs the back of his neck and glances around before speaking again more quietly. "Perhaps try some toys, or some lingerie."

The blush on my face deepens to crimson. "We...already do that kinda thing," I mutter. Viktor discovered kink about a year into the relationship and, being accommodating I agreed to explore our likes and dislikes together. As a result of our avid practice sessions, I often found myself on the receiving end of paddles, blindfolds and compromising positions. We had a huge assortment of toys with which to torment and pleasure. Hell, the two of us even experimented with the taboo role-reversal, having him be penetrated instead of me. Not that I was going to say so out loud. As Beka said, it wasn't appropriate for an omega to discuss such things with an Alpha that wasn't their own. Even with our Pairs being as close as they were, it was still kind of taboo. Yura was well aware about our experimentation, though, just as much as much as I was privy to theirs. Still, I wasn't surprised the little blonde kept such news to himself. He was fiercely loyal to guarding the secrets of others.

Otabek rubs the back of his neck. "Then, I guess he just needs time. Have you asked him about it?"

"He just says there's no need to rush, which is true on its own. Except...this _isn't_ normal for us," I say vaguely in regard to the frequency of sex. We had it quite often over the years, several times a week if we could. To now all of a sudden be cold turkey for almost two months was concerning for me.

Beka goes quiet a moment, thinking about what to tell me. "Flip the tables," he suggests. "It's a chancey game, but perhaps trigger his inner-Alpha by trying to exert dominance over him. Growl, nip his neck. That tends to work when Yuratchka does it to me. Now, we _really_ shouldn't keep talking about this, but maybe ask Yura what Omega mind-tricks he has up his sleeve. See what he says, yes?"

I'm all too happy for the subject change. "Thanks anyway, Otabek. Honestly. You and Yurio have been really helpful over the years."

Otabek gives a shrug and then skates backward. "You and your old man helped us when we needed it most. It's the least we can do."

* * *

The car ride home couldn't have been any slower. After two and a half months of no sex, I was absolutely dying for some action. I know the public saw me as some innocent, bright eyed youth who probably squirmed away at the idea of anything remotely explicit. They always thought that about omegas of Asian ethnicity. It was probably why we were so prized from the moment we present as the bottom caste of the hierarchy. Both reviled and revered for what we could provide, and what we lacked. And initially that had been the case. That is, until Viktor. I had no way and no reason to explore my sexuality before him. But with him, I'd tried most everything at least once. And came to know exactly what I liked, and exactly what I didn't. Sex wasn't a 'dirty' thing to me anymore, but a beautiful thing.

A beautiful thing I loved to have _a lot _of.

And now, _wasn't_ _getting at all_.

I didn't pounce on Viktor immediately, even though every fiber of me wanted to rip off his track suit right there in the garage. Except, well, the garage is freezing cold, so maybe not the best idea.

So I wait most impatiently for us to get inside and peel off our sweaty clothes, and heat up over cups of hot chocolate I prepare for both of us. Makkachin sits quietly by both our feet, presumably fast asleep despite Viktor and I conversing none too quietly. I guess old age makes him able to sleep through most anything these days.

Viktor is the first to get up from his seat on the stool. He's already aiming to wash his mug immediately, but I get up and put my hand on his before he can open the faucet. "I'll do it, Vitya. You can shower first, ok?"

His smile is a genuine one. When he kisses the top of my head, I swear it warms me all the way to my toes. "Okay," he says, letting my go and making his way quite slowly up the stairs. I almost worry he might be too tired for what I have planned.

I don't wash our mugs, simply waiting until I hear the shower on the second floor turn on before chucking the two cups into the dishwasher. As if I was going waste our perfectly functioning appliance! We paid an ungodly amount of money for this house and I was going to make damn sure we utilized every penny spent!

I eventually make my own way upstairs and into our master bedroom, stripping out of my clothes and tossing them into the laundry hamper. Choosing to remain nude, I pad across the carpet, through the large walk-in closet, and finally peek into the steamy bathroom. It smells piney due to the body soap Viktor always buys. I find the shower surprisingly empty and discover Viktor opted for the bath this go 'round. Initially I planned to join him in the shower, but this is fine too.

Viktor is almost entirely submerged in the steaming water, long hair wet and slicked back out of his face. His head is tilted back against a towel, eyes closed. His arms rest on either side of the large tub, legs bent and spread at the knees. He doesn't notice I've come inside yet, partly because I'm not a particularly heavy walker and partly because he wasn't expecting company. And he doesn't catch on until I'm already dipping one foot into the tub.

His eyes open, and then widen as I lower into the water. "Yuuri-"

"Ssh." I glide across the tub and settle between his legs, hands on his chest while I close the distance between us.

"Yuuri...?" he mumbles against my lips.

"Hm?" I'm not really answering, but not really ignoring him either. More of an acknowledgment that I'd heard him but wasn't interested in talking. I needed actions, not words. He didn't object to the kiss, but he didn't spice up the kiss either. He kept them clean, neat and sweet.

I didn't want clean, neat or sweet.

My face dipped to his neck, nudging his chin on of the way for better access to his jugular. I wouldn't dare bite: Alphas didn't like that. Not usually. And I didn't want to kill the mood before it really got started by choosing this exact moment to experiment as Beka suggested. So I opt for lazy swirls of my tongue between suction. I knew well that he'd probably be forced to wear a scarf tomorrow to the rink, being the pale man he was.

My head rose again to his face to steal more kisses, seeking to taste him. To feel his tongue against mine in a power dynamic I never fought for.

"Yuuri...Yuuri, love, stop," Viktor said. He raised his hands to either side of my face to physically stop me and I blinked at him in confusion.

I guess the one to end the mood would be him before it ever got started. Now more irritated than aroused, my hands slip beneath the water between us to see if he'd even been brought to a hint of arousal by the proximity of our nude bodies and my ministrations. He flinches at the sudden grab to his privates, and I find almost to my horror that Viktor is limp.

A one-sided desire? With my own husband? I pull back out of his grasp with a blank expression, already making ready to step out of the tub again. This was a mistake.

The sound of water sloshing behind doesn't stop me, though I know it's Viktor coming out to get my attention. When he reaches out to hold my wrist, I shake him off; grab my towel, and leave the bathroom entirely to back the way in came in. I thought Viktor might leave me alone after that but apparently he, too, decides to cut his bath short.

"Damnit, Yuuri, let me talk to you," he says, now forcefully turning my around by the shoulders in the corridor of our walk-in. "What is going on?"

I brush his hands off. "You cannot be so stupid, so blind to not notice that I have been trying for weeks to get your attention, for you to even touch me. For months, Viktor. _Months_. What the hell is going on?"

He grabs my shoulders this time, but now I completely lift them off and take a very clear step backward. I'm not done talking. "I've never been the initiator of our intimacy, Viktor. Not ever. I'm too shy to. In all these years, outside of my heats I only ever hinted when I wanted sex so that you might get a move on. But now you're denying me. And have been denying my for months. Why?"

I pause, but before he can answer, I find myself word vomiting. "Do you not find me attractive anymore? Is it because I've gained weight? I'll lose it, just gimmie some time. But goddamn it Viktor, that's not a good enough reason to brush off someone who's married to you!"

"Yuuri, God no, I could never find you unattractive!" he says. "That isn't why—"

"You're lying," I say. I will not cry. _I will not cry!_ "You weren't even a little bit hard. Not even a tad." My face crumples a bit. I cannot cry! "Who is she? Or he? There's another omega, isn't there. Or is it a beta?"

"Jesus Christ, Yuuri!" Viktor jerks back as if burned but I don't take back my words, willing him to counter my accusations. Wishing he would tell me something else that made more sense.

"Have you been sleeping with someone else?" I ask again. "Because you've gone from regularly scheduled sex, to none at all when we made a promise to try for a child again. That does not happen without sex."

"Yuuri, don't be ridiculous. You would have smelled it on me if there was someone else."

I scoff, not believing him. "Scent dampeners exist for pretty cheap, Viktor. Your sudden lack of appetite can only be explained by you getting it sated elsewhere."

Viktor's expression goes dark. "I am not cheating on you. I just..." With a sigh he rubs his face with his hands, then drops them to his sides, eyes closed.

Already, I don't want to hear anything he might have to say. "Save it."

And damnit, I start crying. I choose that moment to turn around and walk away, this time blasting hormones warning him not to follow me. That could happen sometimes if an omega was emotionally charged enough. Essentially a wall of pheromones that screamed 'touch me, and you'll regret it.' I could count on one hand how many times I'd done that in my life. And this was the first time with my own mate.

I'd been craving his touch for this entire time, and now, I just wanted to be alone. Thankfully, this house is big enough that we can go without seeing one another if we really wanted to, under the same roof. I take some of my stuff to the guest room, and quite loudly, lock the door.

When I finally get the alone time, I immediately start rearranging some items until I feel at ease before I curl up in the bed and unlock my phone. In my contacts, my finger hovers over my sister's name. We spoke every so often, but I usually kept my relationship issues in the dark. It was something Viktor and I always strived to do—not involving family in our personal problems. Because once you forgave your partner, your family was usually still stuck on hating them.

But I couldn't very well appear in Hasetsu without Viktor and without an explanation. Mari would know something was up, and lying was something I hated to do.

With a sigh, I dial up the Japanese number and quickly tell her I'd be coming home for a little while, simply saying I missed them and needed a little space from Russia.

It was enough. And after I hang up, I fall into an uneasy sleep.

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_**A/N:**_**_ Review!_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**__** This is the first time I'm actually sticking to such a strict posting schedule. The weekly deadlines are giving me the necessary anxiety to make sure I write or plan for a chapter nearly everyday xD. I had this chapter completed TWO WEEKS AGO. Enjoy!**_

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Chapter 5

"I will not allow it."

I stop in the middle of packing my suitcase the following morning to spin around and glare at him. Unlike me, Viktor looks calm and collected, simply leaning against the doorframe of the guest room with arms crossed, one ankle over the other. God, I envy his lazy confidence.

"What do you mean, 'you won't allow it?'" I repeat, dropping a T-shirt unfolded onto the bed.

"Exactly what I said. You cannot go to Japan. Not right now, anyway."

My hands ball up. "What the hell, Viktor? I already bought the ticket. Even if you enforced the bond-mark over me I'd still disobey. I need this. And clearly...so do you." I mutter the last bit, gesturing to his general groin area.

Viktor doesn't look pleased about that bit, a little pained if anything. "When we have problems, we cannot just run away to another country. We need to talk, and unfortunately, I haven't been doing my part in that department."

I scoff and cross my arms, looking away. "Obviously."

Viktor still doesn't enter into the room. I wasn't blasting pheromones anymore, but I still hadn't given the permission necessary for him to come near me. It was obvious I'd stress nested in the room overnight. Entering such a nest unbidden was very unwise. So, I make a little gesture indicating he could do so; and he sighs in relief when he walks in but still chooses to take a seat a respectful distance away.

"Your next heat is due soon, Yuuri. I can smell it."

Oh. _Oh. _

Marked or not, it wasn't smart or pleasant for an omega in heat to be alone. Even worse for one to be outside one's nest. Not when an omega in heat became a beacon of 'please bend me over and screw me!' The haze of a heat overrode all common sense, a thing all omegas hated but had to endure. It was a near miss for Yurio when he literally sought for anyone to knot in him, though thankfully it had been Otabek and not some abusive Alpha taking advantage.

The thing about heats is that we barely remembered anything about them for the week we endure it. All we know of it, is what observing betas tell us from studies, and participating Alphas shared from their own experiences. The scent could drive an unsuspecting Alpha to commit a rape he or she never meant to.

Too many used it as a shoddy excuse to do just that.

"I could take suppressors," I mutter. Those were highly effective in keeping heats minimal, or nonexistent altogether. The only downside is they tended to make some omegas incredibly sick. Unfortunately, I was part of that group.

Viktor's head shot up. "Absolutely not."

I throw my hands up in the air, dropping down onto the bed. "What do you want, Vitya? You don't want to touch me, but you don't want me to take suppressors. What is the difference if I suffer a heat _alone_ while locked up in Japan, versus alone and locked up_ here in Russia_?"

"Because I won't let you suffer the heat alone-"

My eyes narrow. "Pity sex? You've got to be kidding me."

"Yuuri, allow me to speak, please. Preferably _without_ your snippy remarks."

Warning duly noted. There's a growl to his words, and I try hard not to bare my neck in obvious submission. Clearly, I'd tripped a nerve in his immense patience. With a sigh, I clamp my mouth shut and stare a hole in the ground.

He takes the opportunity to continue speaking. "I'm...terrified," he says softer, the tone and the choice of words making my eyes jerk up into his general direction. "I'm terrified of failure if we try again. I...began to wonder if the failure was coming from my end. After all, impotence isn't entirely out of the realm of possibility."

_Oh... my God. _My heart sinks to the depths of my belly. I want to throw up for my selfishness. But I don't interrupt, letting him continue getting whatever he needs to, off his chest.

"Yuuri, I do not tell you these things because it is unfit for an Alpha to be unsure of themselves. And you were so consumed by self-hate for the miscarriage that I did not want to add to your insecurities with my own." Viktor does a little fidget in my peripheral, and I can tell the admission is absolutely killing him. But he has to say it for the two of us to hear. For _me_ to hear.

He continues. "I've been going to see our counselor about my...issue below the belt. So before you ask, yes, we got myself tested. Everything is biologically sound and I am not impotent. It is really all in my head, and I am working on fixing that problem."

I stand up and cross the space of the room to kneel in front of him. He looks down at me, and in silent truce I tilt my head back to expose my neck. A full display of submission in my attempt to wave the olive branch. To ask for forgiveness.

He understands, and he nods. "I'm sorry, too," he whispers, leaning forward not to re-mark me, but to instead place a soft kiss on the bondmark. "I will do better, _lyubov moya_. I promise. I just...need time. And your heat will probably be just as much for you as it is for me."

Ah, _now_ this makes more sense. The proximity of pheromones would boost his sex drive. Possibly all the way up to a rut. There would be no question in his ability to preform, because he would finally get outside of his own self-damning thoughts enough to, literally, rise to the occasion and please his mate.

I nod and wrap my arms around his neck, and he drops his head to my shoulder. "I wish you would have told me sooner, _zolotse_. But I'm happy you told me now. I won't push the issue anymore...I can wait for my heat. I'm so sorry I called you a cheater. I never meant it."

"Ssh. So...you won't go to Japan?" he mumbles into my shirt. I don't miss the almost pleading nature of his request, and I know then that if I pressed the issue he wouldn't bar me from going back to my mother country.

"I won't go to Japan," I reassure, meaning it. I spent enough heats alone in my youth, and didn't want to start now.

* * *

Mari is a little sad I've cancelled the trip back to Hasetsu, but I don't backtrack and I don't go into detail about the stress of the last few months where my marriage was concerned. Instead, giving the half-truth that my heat was impending and that we were trying for pregnancy again. It doesn't require further explanation about my decision to remain in St. Petersburg. After all, the best time for one to get pregnant was during heat. Not that it's impossible to get pregnant any other time, but chances went way up during an omega heat.

I'm sprawled into a split on the livingroom floor of Otabek and Yuri's new condominium when I end the call, their daughter having too much fun braiding my hair for me to have the heart to get up and sit properly. Viktor and Otabek are out, choosing to have some Alpha-Alpha outing with a few other circle of friends.

"So, are you going actually tell me what's been going or are you going to feed me the same bullsh—ah—I mean crap story you just told your sister?" Yuri mutters, consciously tailoring his words so as not to swear in front of his kid. Apparently, their daughter swore at daycare and Otabek less than impressed with the news.

I turn my head a bit to catch a glimpse of Yuri's socked feet, but Vasilisa makes a grunt of disapproval and moves my head back into its original position. Bossy like her birth father for sure. "Um, well...you know Viktor doesn't like when I talk about our personal stuff," I mutter into the ground.

I hear a rude sound from his general direction. "Neither does Otabek, but since when have we ever applied the rules where you and I are concerned? _Dura, _tell me. I haven't been at the rink in a couple weeks but Mila talks. She said you and Viktor fight a lot on the ice, and that never happened before. So spill the beans."

Oh no, people are talking? _About us?_ Did Viktor know? Feeling terrible, I groan and shut my eyes. "I don't think it's appropriate information for a three-year-old to take back to daycare."

I've yet to move, only able to hear the sound of Yuri getting up and moving to another part of the living area and shuffling through some stuff, before coming back and taking his seat again. "Lissa, let's give Uncle Yuuritchka a break, yes? Shall we watch some _Vinni Pukh_?"

It takes a moment, but then I feel her little hands release its tight grip on my hair. "Okay papa," she relents, shuffling over to Yuri. I'm finally able to sit up and cross my legs Indian style, my back against the recliner. Thus allowing me to glimpse the intimate moment where Yuri lifts his daughter to his lap and puts the headphones on his head first to check to volume of the Russian version of Winnie the Pooh on the tablet, before placing them on Vasilisa's head. He's tender, going so far as to kiss the top of her head and smooth down her black curls before giving me his attention again.

He sees my constricted expression and opens his mouth to say something. But before he can say the usual lines of encouragement that I'd one day have my chance, I blurt out, "We haven't had sex in two months."

Yuri's mouth hangs open, blue eyes wide and searching my neck for the obviously missing bond mark to confirm what I'd just said. Self consciously I pull up the collar of my sweater.

"But that's insanity, you two are like fucking rabbits!" Yuri finally exclaims, free to curse now that his kid's ears are protected by noise-cancellation headphones. "All you two did was eat, sleep and drink orgasms as a three course meal; in any stairway, shower or locker room!"

My ears burn red at the memory of Yuri walking in on me in a very compromising position in what we thought was a deserted stairwell and Viktor fell into rut. "I know. The desire is still on my end, and my doctor said I could have sex again. And even try for another pregnancy if we wanted to. And, _oh God_, Yuri I wanted to. I couldn't figure out for the life of me why Viktor just wouldn't touch me. He...rejected me, or ignored advances altogether."

Yuri doesn't give me a look of pity, which we both know I don't want. He does give me a look of vicarious anger. And understanding. "He does know that going much longer can break a bond, yes?"

I wave a hand. "No, no. I mean yes, he does. But, we've solved the problem, I think. Maybe. Possibly." I pause and scrunch my nose. "This is coming out not so good."

"Obviously, piggy. Try again."

With a chuckle, I do indeed go back to the very beginning and rehash the story from the two weeks following Viktor's arrival home, to the various rejections, all the way up to the bath fight and the resolution of why I couldn't go to Japan anymore. Occasionally I have to pause for when Vasilisa needs a bathroom break, requests juice, or has an issue with the tablet. By the time I finish, Yuri's look of anger dissipates into his usual scowl. Which I suppose means he isn't mad anymore.

"_Duraks_," he says. "The both of you. This could have been resolved a lot sooner than it was if you both took the goddamn time to sit down and _talk_. What is wrong with you two? It's been five years, what _can't_ be fixed with open communication?"

Yuri may be younger than me, but sometimes his nuggets of wisdom make me forget his age. I guess he never really did have the chance to really act his age, forced to grow up and match his peers too early. A blessing and a curse.

He continues. "Alphas...too caught up in their fragile Alphalinity. And omegas too damn afraid to be assertive. The whole thing is a stupid mess. I guess you two can't really be blamed for your nature." He looks down at his giggling daughter, worryingly stroking her arm. I know what he's thinking. We had this talk before. He hopes and prays to anyone listening she never presents as either side. To skate through life as a beta with the freedom of choice. Not that I can blame him. His view of Alphas and omegas were twisted into ugly versions of themselves during his formative years. A complex subject made black and white when it was really more nuanced and grey than that. I suppose for that reason I don't have the same strong opinions on presentations.

I don't get into my views on the matter, since that's not the focus right now. "Well, my heat is coming soon-ish. So I guess we'll have to wait until then."

"And if it turns out he can't get it up? What then? Suppressants?"

The suggestion makes me flinch. Admittedly I hadn't thought of the possibility of Viktor not being able to perform in the middle of my heat. I hated suppressants with a burning passion. "I...didn't think that far. But I guess so."

And even as the words come out of my mouth, they burn my tongue like acid. _Please, God_, I think to myself. _Please, I just need a break for once!_

* * *

_**A/N:**_** _So many emotions. I'm putting my couple through so much T.T If you want to know what happened to Yuri P. to cause his negative opinions of A/B/O, feel free to go back and read his and Otabek's story in "Your Forever." :D_**

**_Shameless self promotion! _**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:**** Awkward, but I posted the WRONG CHAPTER on upload day! It was up for about 24 hours before I realized the error. Anywho, I've since taken it down (obviously) and replaced it with the correct chappie.**_

_**For those who already read the accidental upload, it will be up next week as scheduled. **_

** _I suck, I know._**

**_Anywho. Lemony ship is now boarding. Prepare yourself! :D_**

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Chapter 6

My heat comes several days earlier than planned, hitting me in the middle of Yuri and I's conditioning day at the gym. We kept wondering why today Alphas kept circling around our equipment to do particular heavy weight training. As if showing off would entice us to look, when clearly both of us had wedding bands on full display.

I stop my reps for my legs, feeling far more fatigued than usual. Yuri stops to give me a long look. "You okay, piglet? Don't die on me now, I can't very well lift you out of here."

I roll my eyes, unbothered by the jibe of calling me heavy. I'm lighter now that the remnant baby fat melted away with the resuming of my usual training regimen. And with Yurio, I know now that this is the only way he knows how to be affectionate.

I wipe the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand and nod. "I just feel a little hot and a little tired," I admit. "Some water and I'll get over it."

Yuri raises a brow, glancing around at the still circling Alphas with a look of unwelcome. With a frown, he puts down his dumbbells to come closer and slaps my hand away to place the back of his own against my forehead, a peak into the maternal side he usually only revealed in the privacy of his home.

"You're warm... Not sick?"

I shake my head. "I'm definitely not that."

He drops his hand to give me a long look, and then decidedly begins to pack up his things with my own. "We're leaving, let's go."

An order I already begin to obey even though he's not actually an Alpha. "Wha..?"

He comes closer to all but hiss into my ear. "Every Alpha in this goddamn room can probably smell your increasing fertility. Now, shut up and _let's_ _go!"_

Oh, crap. He doesn't need to tell me twice. I help him grab the remainder of our stuff and hurry out into the typical mild weather of May, springtime season. We both drove here in our respective vehicles, so we pause in the middle of the empty parking lot to deliberate. Unsurprisingly, Yuri suggests leaving my car here to be picked up later but I shake my head no.

"They'll tow it if it's left past business hours," I remind him. We could afford to pay the necessary fine, but it was a hassle to get one's car back a whole town over and I would be in no state to retrieve it anytime soon. "I'm fine enough to drive, Yurio. Let's just go in our own cars."

Yurio grumbles and analyzes me a bit longer but relents, already walks past me toward his car. "Fine. But I'm following you to your place," he says already whipping out his cell phone. "Just let me call the babysitter to pick up Vasilisa. If you start swerving, you'd better pull over!"

I don't swerve. A miracle, seeing as we were stuck in traffic for at least an hour. I use the time to try and call Viktor what feels like a million times, but when he doesn't pick up on the fifth redial I genuinely start to panic. Not because of my worsening heat, but because my anxiety tends to make me think the worse. What if something's happened to him?

By the time we pull into my drive way, I'm half sick with worry, half sick with my body pushing itself to the brink with the overproduction of hormones. I open my door and feebly come out, my face feeling hot and clammy. My mind is still here, but I know it won't be too long before conscious me starts fading to be replaced with instinctual, omega me.

Yuri pulls me from the car, urging me toward the house before the wind carries my scent to other Alphas in the area. He whizzes past me to go straight into our now overstocked kitchen to grab an oversized cup to fill with water and a dish with some fruit, thrusting them both into my hands and ushering me into the living room.

"Eat that. And when you're done, you're eating more. _Then_, we can go to your nest. But not a moment before."

Does Yuri...does the little blonde actually sound stressed? I hadn't heard him sound that way since before he had his daughter. Since before he had Otabek! For his sake, I don't argue to obvious point that I don't want to eat because the thought of consuming anything made my stomach lurch. We both know that's just a side affect, and that I'd feel worse post-heat if I went into it already starving and dehydrated. Begrudgingly, I eat the fruit salad and drain the water until it's all gone. And as promised, Yuri refills both. Except he had time to make a quick sandwich and give me a non-sugared sports drink instead. Electrolytes for prospective hours of physical activity.

I force myself to finish the food this time though, and hope to God he won't make me eat more. And thankfully he doesn't. I'm slipping away and we both know it.

"You should probably get showered and into your nest," he mumbles. "You go ahead, I'm gonna try to call Viktor again. I swear that asshole has the worst possible timing..."

I can only imagine the pile of voicemails and text messages Yuri must have left on Viktor's phone. Dumbly I take the advice and slip upstairs to the master bedroom, stripping my track suit and simply leaving it in a messy pile on the floor. I walk the path through the closet and into our bathroom, opting for a cold shower instead of my usual scalding ones. I want to stay here in the chill of the falling water, but my legs feel like jello the longer I stand here.

Where the hell is Viktor?

I barely remember going back to the bedroom, only that I'm fishing the hamper for one of Viktor's T-shirt's. I find one that smells strongly of him and take it with me to the bed. I re-arrange a few things, balling up and forming the sheets until I'm in the very center, wearing Viktor's old shirt.

I can't remember falling asleep, but when I wake again, Yurio is by my bed, freshly showered too if my nose is right and his damp hair is anything to go by. To say I feel incredibly thirsty and hot would be an understatement.

Uncomfortable. Sweaty. And _without my Alpha! _ I whine and turn this way and that in vain attempt to find a new position of comfort, but to no avail. Eventually I give up, keening in despair and stripping all together. The cool against newly naked skin feels nice...for a moment. Until it doesn't anymore, and I'm back to square one.

The room is only dimly lit with a single lamp on and a cool cloth on the back of my neck.

It dawns on me I'm still naked. My attempt to sit up and reach for my discarded pants ends up being more like a useless flop of my limbs that go nowhere.

Through closed eyes I hear Yuri's sigh of irritation. "We've shared showers in the lockeroom for years, _durak. _Not to mention you watched me push a watermelon out during labor. Do you think I care about seeing you naked now?"

Oh. Well. He had a point. I can only whine in reply though, and curl into a ball of discomfort.

Yuri frowns and leans closer, removing the now lukewarm cloth form neck and making me roll back over onto my back. He inches me to sit up, even though every touch makes me squirm. I'm too sensitive, but he's going a good job of ignoring the deluge of slick being produced.

"Come on, drink this. You're dehydrated," he mutters, holding an ice cold glass of water to my face. I drink it on command, enough that some of the ice water dribbles to my chest in sweet relief. I drain the glass, lowering back to the bed and curling up again.

He sighs. "Viktor's on his way, he was stuck in traffic like we were. But further out. Big accident apparently..."

"Hmm.." I mumble, choosing to keep my eyes closed. "Need...Hmm..."

"I know," he sighs, and I drift asleep again to the sound of his phone ringing.

When I awake once more, Yuri is gone but a new glass of ice water sits on the nightstand beside the dimly lit lamp. I don't want to drink...I feel sick thinking of ingesting anything. But I'm so _hot, _that I purposely spill more than I swallow. I can hear the shower running. Is Yuri taking another shower?

Time passes, though how much I don't know much. Maybe five minutes. Maybe an hour. But when I wake, it is to Viktor's worried, apologetic face leaning over mine.

"_Lyubov,"_ he says, simultaneously greeting me and apologizing at the same time. Apology accepted by my tugging his face down for a needy kiss.

Taking the hint, he lets his towel fall from his hips and onto the floor as he joins me in the oversized bed. "Now," I pant between clashes of tongue. "Now, inside. Want. _Please_."

I'm definitely far gone, barely registering when he joins me in the bed. He is on top of me, surrounding my vision and my _world_ with him. I whine for him to enter me, to fill me up with all of him. But instead of immediately going for gold, Viktor is kissing my neck, my chest, taking the time to nip and suck at my sensitive nipples. I jerk and writhe, but when I try to wriggle away Viktor makes sure to keep me put.

"Ha...Vit..ya—"

"Ssh."

I do hush, biting my lips as his continue their torturous path down my middle and between my thighs. He places hickies all along the pale skin of my inner thighs before finally taking my painfully hard erection into his mouth, looking up at me as all of me disappears into his mouth inch by inch. Had he not been applying an almost painful grip to my hips, I probably would have jerked up into his mouth. But he knows me too well, and I stay put. Still I fight with myself to stay quiet, but once he slides three fingers in me I lose it, loudly moaning into the quiet of the room. My face contorts, hands twisting into the sheets by my head. This, _this...I've wanted this for so long! _It almost hurts to be stimulated by something other than my own hands.

This teasing is killing me. "Hurry up and _fuck me, Viktor!"_

"Oh, such a potty mouth. Tsk tsk," he mumbles against the tip of my wet length. But he doesn't actually give me the satisfaction of doing what I ask, instead continuing to suck me off in that deliciously expert manner only Viktor ever could. Eventually he's no longer teasing, but actually blowing me with purpose and constant speed. Watching his cheeks hollow from the effort is incredibly satisfying to watch, but I do not watch for long; eyes scrunched shut as he begins fingering against _that _part within me.

I swear I don't see it coming when I literally choke out an orgasm. The sound of the sheets tearing above my head join in the chorus of my starved moans and Viktor's chuckle of triumph as he swallows every last drop. His hand is drenched with my juices when he finally pulls away, the ring of muscles quivering around nothing. I'm seeing stars, but it's still not enough and he knows it.

Viktor comes back over me to push his slick-moistened fingers into my mouth, a silent command for me to lick them clean. And I do more than that: I suck like my life depends on it. He doesn't linger on the act for too long, simultaneously replacing his fingers with his lips so that I may taste myself on his mouth, and finally entering his enormous cock in me. I can almost literally feel my insides shift out of the way to allow him passage. My eyes roll back, head slamming back against the pillows.

When he starts thrusting, his head is buried against the junction of my shoulder and my neck and I tilt my head away to give him better access. I raise me arms some to grab onto the headboard of the bed as each measured snap of his hips jerks my body against the bed. No command in the world could possibly make me be quiet now.

"Hn...so, _tight_ Yuuri.." he grunts into my ear. To prove a point I tighten the muscles around him, feeling triumphant myself when he swears to himself. When he starts slowing down I know its because his orgasm is swiftly approaching and he's trying to delay the inevitable.

"No, ah..! Please, harder. Knot me. _Now_, Viktor," I all but beg.

He nods and pulls out to guide me onto my belly, hoisting my hips up for easy access but pushing my head into the bed. He slides inside me again, the entrance making a loud, squelching noise due to the copious amounts of slick now pouring down my thighs, balls and onto the bed. He picks up the speed as requested, his pace losing the polished timing and becoming haggard, harsh slams of wet skin against wet skin. His labored breathing tells me he's about to fall over the edge. And when he does, he clamps his teeth into my neck to remark the faded bond mark there. Viktor shoves himself all the way inside me, the sudden inflation of his knot adding to his already impressive girth. The mix of pain and pleasure from it all causes me to fall over the edge with him a second time, the evidence of my climax spraying onto the bed.

When he lets go of my neck, Viktor slowly rolls us onto our sides so that the tie doesn't hurt me too much. I whimper anyway, settling down once we're finally on our sides and spooning in a dryer spot of the bed.

My body having sensed I'd finally gotten the necessary seed for our first round of many sessions of sex to come, allows me to come to some of my senses for a brief time. Enough of my senses that I can speak and remember whatever I might say. "You were late," I mumble drowsily.

"I know," he whispers against my neck, causing me to shudder-with regret. "I was at the rink and didn't have my phone on me. By the time I'd gotten to it, both you and Yurio had called ten times. And when I tried to rush home, there was a traffic and...oh, _lyubov_, I'm so sorry."

I nod and reach back to wrap an arm lazily around his neck. "I thought you were avoiding me...again. But you're here now. Thank god. Where is...?"

""Yura?" Viktor is rubbing lazy circles against my lower stomach. "The moment I got here he gave me an ear full and then ran off to his place. The smell of arousal in the house was making him sick."

"Hmm, good...good..." I'm losing it again, already grinding against the knot that won't deflate for another twenty minutes or so.

Viktor groans and stills my hips. It's not smart for me to do so. It only feels good because I'm in heat, but it could probably hurt me in the long run. "Stay still, love. Let me take care of you, hm?"

He doesn't thrust—can't thrust—while still swollen at his base. But he does use the hand that was on my stomach to instead lightly fondle me to hardness, and then give me a sweet, simple handjob to my third orgasm for the hour. My body decides then that it's had enough, and I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep swiftly thereafter.

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**_A/N:_****_ Side note: I'm not sure if the traffic for rp is slowing down on or if reviews are no longer a thing. But I love hearing how readers feel about my work, and if I don't hear feed back I assume my work wasn't well received. And that I should scrap it! _**

**_Review away!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N: Lemony snickets to follow. This is a short chappie. NSFW. I repeat: NOT SAFE FOR WORK!_**

**_Alone? Good! Enjoy the smut xD_**

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Chapter 6

Viktor and I have sex over and over, in various ways over the course of three days. Sometimes, he would use a large toy. Sometimes, gloved hands. Other times, he would choose a vibrator. On occasion he would simply pump my length to orgasm. In between sessions, he'd make me drink more water.

By dawn of the fourth day, the last tendrils of my heat began to fade. Enough that I found the ice water to be too cold, and my ass too sore for any further stimulus there. I was content to just being fondled, but even that was becoming too much for my sensitive body.

The kisses to my neck still feel nice, bordering between ticklish and arousing—though slowly treading more into the arousing territory—as he continiues to nuzzle and nip the bond mark.

Instinctively I sigh against the contact, my head tilting to allow him the space needed should he wish to re-claim me. He doesn't bite down, instead choosing to place open-mouthed kisses against the skin. My sighs turn to moans as a result, and when he rumbles a little growl of approval I can't help but whine in turn.

My eyes flutter open as I realize what is going on. My heat may be fizzling out, but it was clear that Viktor's rut was far from over. Through what's left of my heat-induced haze I remember that he's a high level Alpha; that his ruts always outlasted my heats. The result of my being a mid-level omega meant our cycles never quite matched up.

"Wait, Vit..haa..." I whimper as he starts to grind against my sore abused backside. I know without needing a mirror that there a purpling bruises all over my body. But despite all this, his ministrations are bringing life to my previously limp cock. Already I feel the slick starting to form just from this.

Wordlessly he guides me from my spooning position on my side, to my hands and knees. "Mine," I hear him growl from somewhere behind me. It's when I feel the heat of his mouth between my cheeks that I know precisely where he is. I don't turn around to see him, or even to retort. I _can't_, my mind turning to mush and all retaliation dying on my lips as my eyes roll shut. A low groan pulls from me as I drop my chest to the bed, now resting my weight onto my forearms to give him better access. It's so _lewd_, all of it; his face down _there_, tongue dipping in and out. I don't need the prep, my hole already so loose from all the abuse he delivered over the course of almost a week. But god above does the foreplay feel amazing.

He grips my cheeks and further spreads them for better access. The sensation coupled with the wet sounds of saliva and slick are enough to make me painfully hard, precum making a line from the tip of my cock to the messy bed linens below. "Vityaaaa," I whine again. "Need...inside..._now_..."

He obliges, and with a single hard thrust I achieve what must have been the millionth orgasm of the day. Viktor doesn't stop, only growling in approval before deciding to wreck my body. There is nothing sweet or sensual about this, but I don't mind. I love it, _crave_ it. I reach for a pillow with which to bury my face into, wishing to stifle my moans so that our poor neighbors might be spared. But Viktor wants none of that, grabbing a fistful of my hair and tugging so that my face is free and back impossibly arched.

"Don't you dare," he rumbles into my ear. "I want to hear _every. Sound. You. Make. _Be a good omega for me and yell for me. Let them know you belong to me."

It doesn't help that with every enunciation, Viktor makes sure to time his thrusts so that it hits my prostate just right. I have no choice but to obey the inevitable. I do scream his name, my fists balled into the sheets and my mouth open. I don't think I'm even speaking English anymore, but a mix of that and Japanese. Maybe all Japanese. I can't tell. I've lost track. I can't _think_. All my thoughts, all my _senses_ are filled with Viktor and nothing else.

Eventually I can't hold myself up anymore, Viktor having fucked my right onto my belly. MY mouth is permanently kept open. Am...am I _crying? _

I _am_!

He doesn't stop. His thrusts are hard and fast, the squelch of slick loud between us. I can only imagine how wet our thighs are from it all. I orgasm again, making a mess between my belly and the bed.

He's still not finished.

Viktor is holding me by the hips and still going strong, my screams now a hoarse cry of bliss. I'm blabbering nonsense now, too far gone to be able to form coherent thoughts. Has it been five minutes, or five centuries? I can't remember. I can't bring myself to care. I want more and yet want no more. I'm confused.

_I love it._

When he finally does cum, he bends over and bites on my bond-mark, hard enough to break skin this time. He re-claims me, and it hurts so good that I cum for a third time in succession. Not too long afterward do I feel him shove himself to the hilt within me, do I realize he's knotted me. Really knotted me. He's no small man on a regular fuck session, and this is no regular knot. This is one _meant_ for breeding.

The pressure hurts, but it feels so good that my mouth stays open but no sounds come out, my mind going blank and my throat too raw for anything beyond a whisper to be heard. My cock twitches once, twice, a dry orgasm but just as powerful nonetheless.

I know his knot won't fade for another twenty, thirty minutes. And even in his Alpha-mindset, I know Viktor knows this too. He rolls us over so that I'm more comfortably spooned against him, his teeth still clamped firm on my neck. And when he finally releases it, I fall into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

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**_A/N:_****_ You may now close your browsers and take a very cold shower. xD YOU'RE WELCOME._**


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